In Her Eyes
by frizzy.writings
Summary: FE7. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this content. Hector/Lyn


His breath caught in his throat when he first saw her. She was standing outside, silhouetted against the balcony as a glowing red son melted beneath the horizon. She looked as though she had been painted into the scene, so perfect did she blend into the oncoming evening, the sky a melody of golds and crimsons with the slightest tinge of blue beginning to intercede. Her palms were pressed against the stone rail, her head looking upwards. From where he stood inside the castle, Hector could make out every detail of Lyn's face. She was...she was beautiful. And not just some typical type of pretty, made obvious through jewels or ribbons. She was beautiful in a way only time could reveal, a quiet sort of elegance that was easy to miss if you never took the time to just look.

"Are you never going to say anything to her?" asked a kind voice. Hector looked to his right to see Eliwood, having changed out of his coronation gown and into a formal robes for the evening. Hector's eyes flicked up to Eliwood's head, where a newly placed golden circlet glowed in the warm ballroom light.

"That crown suits you," he said.

"It's ridiculous, I know," replied Eilwood, adjusting it for the twentieth time that day, "But it's all ceremony, of course. Thank goodness I don't really have to walk around wearing it all the time."

Hector smiled, "You were always much better at this sort of...stuff than I was."

"Well, you'll get the hang of it, I'm sure," replied Eliwood, "You sort of have to, now."

Hector's smile faded. He had barely been in Ostia since the war had ended. He'd returned briefly to put certain affairs in order, then dashed off to Pherae several months before Eliwood's coronation. It was, he knew, immature, to leave Oswin as acting Marquess. To ride away from his dead brother's throne and waiting subjects, many of them still confused in the wake of their Marquis's death and reports of war. To ride away with a sick feeling in his heart and the hovering knowledge that a Kingdom was a monster of a thing to try to escape.

"Sorry," said Eliwood, and Hector felt a hand on his shoulder, "Forgive me, I didn't mean to sound -"

"No," sighed Hector, "There's nothing to be sorry about. It's true, anyways. I'll have to suffer through all this song and dance soon enough."

Eliwood grinned, "Well now, I wouldn't really call it suffering...although you seem to have found a way to torture yourself regardless."

Hector stared at Eliwood, who chuckled lightly.

"Come on now, don't tell me the great and mighty Hector is scared of talking to a girl!"

"You may be the Marquess, but that doesn't mean I still can't clobber you."

"Well, watch it, we wouldn't want to start a war now." Eliwood smiled. "In all seriousness, though, what are you doing standing out here?"

"I don't know," said Hector softly, "It just feels...very different, all of a sudden. Does that make sense?"

Eliwood grinned broadly. "More than you think, my friend. Now, go on! We're not having this extravagant celebration so that you can mope around." Clapping his friend on the shoulder one last time, Eliwood gave Hector a reassuring grin, then drifted off into the crowd to exchange pleasantries. Hector hadn't often had much reason to be jealous of Eliwood, but at that moment he wouldn't have minded swapping anything for his friend's tact and confidence. Hector was no good at migrating through the hidden traps and subtleties of pleasant conversation.

And now, for some reason, the idea of pleasant conversation with Lyn had become much more daunting a task than he'd ever viewed it as before.

_Come on Hector, you've led an army against Nergal and saved this whole damned world. This should be nothing._ Recalling a memory that involved him hacking off the last of the three heads from Nergal's dragon, Hector fixed an unsteady smile on his face and strolled out onto the balcony.

It was noticeably cooler the moment he had stepped out of the ballroom, though just looking at Lyn managed to pump some unfamiliar heat through his body. She wore a flowing, pale blue gown that was tailored in the Pheraen style of dress, and her hair, normally pulled back in a simple ponytail, had been braided and tied into an elegant knot at the back of her head. He had been taken aback at first, so unused was he to seeing her outside of her traditional Sacaen clothes. She struck such a solitary figure, alone on the balcony with that wistful look across her face. He walked up to her side, and she turned her head slowly to look up at him.

"You seem sad," he said. It was the first thing that came to mind, although Hector wanted to kick himself the second the words left his mouth. Months since he'd last seen her, and this was how he greeted her?

"Oh? Do I? I'm sorry." She smiled. Hector had never seen Lyn cry. But he had seen, many times before, a certain ache that weighed heavily on her, and was always the most obvious in her blue-gray eyes. Her eyes held nothing back. "I didn't mean to distract anyone from the celebration."

"N-No! Sorry that's, that's not what I meant. I mean, you're not distracting anyone!" said Hector hastily, "I just meant, you seem a little, uh, a little lonely, out here. By yourself. I mean..." Hector fidgeted.

"I didn't mean to offend anyone," replied Lyn, glancing off towards the sunset again, "I just...do better by myself, sometimes. Although," she turned to look at Hector, "I am glad you're here."

"I'm glad you're here, too." The words were out again before he could think about it. But she smiled as he said them.

"Dancing has never been my greatest talent. Or at least, not this type of dancing," she gestured towards the glowing ballroom, where couples moved and twirled in practiced steps besides the droning violins.

"Yes, it's, it's never really been mine either," replied Hector. It had never seemed this difficult to have a conversation before, not when they were all dead on their feet from a week's worth of marching, not even in the middle of a fray. Searching for something to fill in the air, he said, "When I was younger, Eliwood and I took a dancing class together."

Lyn let out a small laugh, "Really?"

It felt as though his whole body had loosened at the sound of her laughter. "Yes," he continued, "It was...fairly awful. Well, for me at least. Eliwood did the best he could. He could've been perfect without me as a partner."

"I can imagine."

"I stepped on his feet all the time. I almost broke his toe once. One of our instructors was completely obsessive, and she gave me this long talk all about some ancient history between Bern and Pherae and some political treaty that was almost broken - apparently some Prince from Pherae didn't twirl the Princess of Bern properly or something, and he accidentally sent her flying into a table and she landed in a pie."

Lyn was doubled over in laughter, and it made Hector strangely proud to think he'd been the one to ward off her sadness, even if it was just for that moment. Proud enough to do something he wasn't sure if he'd regret.

"I have gotten a lot better since then, though," he said, offering out his hand to her, "If you'd give me a chance to prove it."

Lyn looked up at him, and Hector's heart froze in the few seconds it took for her to reply. A knowing look crept across her face, her lips curving into a clever smile. It was the way she had looked at him during the war, whenever she beat him during one of their frequent sparring matches.

"As long as you go slow. I don't want any of _my_ toes breaking," she replied, taking his hand while draping her other arm around the back of his neck. _Remember the dragon, you've faced a dragon, that should be nothing compared to this_, thought Hector to himself as he placed his other hand around her waist. He looked at his other hand, curled around hers, and then glanced down to see Lyn smiling up at him.

"I believe you're supposed to lead," she said.

"Uh, yeah, yes of course."

Hector straightened his spine and searched back years and years ago, trying to dredge up everything he'd ever learned about formal dancing. He listened to the orchestra, finding the rhythm in the music, tried to conjure up the memory of Nergal once more, and began to dance.

When did dancing under the stars become so painless? Hector hadn't yet had a formal dancing experience that hadn't ended with a wounded dance partner and either his father or brother frowning down at him. But here, alone on the balcony while twilight started to settle itself across the land, he found his hand in Lyn's to be the most natural feeling as they steered themselves between the nighttime music. He felt so aware of everything around him, of the crisp night air brushing across his cheek, the fading sound of day, and the feeling of his being so close to Lyn. He couldn't remember when was the last time he'd been this content.

But when he glanced down at her, there was that distant look in her eyes again.

"Lyn," said Hector, "What's wrong?"

She was silent a moment before answering. Lyn had never been one to waste words. "I guess...when I see so many of us here, it just reminds me of who we lost." She sighed. "I'm sorry, never mind. I don't mean to be depressing."

"You don't have to apologize for anything, Lyn. Especially not for missing the dead."

"I try not to dwell on it too much. At home, we're told to remember those we've lost, and to honor their names. Clinging to them makes it harder for them to pass on." She smiled up at him. "But, I miss the living, too - how's everyone in Ostia? I was looking for some of your people earlier but I only spotted Serra here."

"Serra wouldn't miss an event like this for all the gold in Elibe, not with all the new gossip for her to pick up," said Hector, grinning. "She has been doing just fine. I've even heard rumors that someone's courting her - although whether it's of their own free will or she's blackmailed them, I don't know. Oswin has been acting in my stead for a few months, now."

"Mm." Lyn didn't comment on Oswin's performing what should have been Hector's job, which he was grateful for. "And Matthew?"

"Matthew is...more often better than not," he replied. He'd left Matthew with some vague orders when he'd first left Ostia, including to report to no one but Oswin for the next few months. Yet he'd run into the spy only a few weeks ago, when Hector had been going through a nearby marketplace. Matthew had been waiting for him, had apparently tracked down Hector to give him an update on the situations in Bern and Ostia, and to report on some possible new recruiting for Ostia's spy network. He had addressed him as Lord, as he always had, but there was less joking and more finality in the way he said it. Then he was gone as quickly as he'd appeared, and Hector had spent the rest of the day trying to shake the sound of the spy's hollowed voice from his head. For some people, the war had yet to end.

They fell into silence for a while, swaying along the length of the balcony and further from the ballroom, with its light and its music. Their dance came to a slow stop, though they did not let go of each other.

"Look at us," said Hector softly, "It doesn't seem so long ago we were sleeping in tents and eating stale rations everyday. And now, each of us to inherit a throne..."

Lyn rested her head against Hector's chest, and Hector didn't think he had ever known something to be so perfect.

"I...was hoping I could leave Caelin to you, actually," she spoke so softly, Hector almost didn't catch her words. In all his time of knowing her, Hector realized this was the first time Lyn had ever sounded ashamed.

"Caelin?"

"I know it's my birthright," she continued, "And...my grandfather expected me to take over for him. But...it's the way people look at me, Hector. Like they wouldn't even trust me cleaning their stables - how do I command the respect of those people?" She gave a small laugh laced with fear, "Gods, I sound so ridiculous."

"I don't think you sound ridiculous at all," replied Hector, the sincerity in his voice prompting Lyn to smile. She continued.

"It was different with my grandfather. I could pretend the people of Caelin agreed with me, even though it was all for his own sake, because I always had him behind me." She paused, "I thought I would never be lonelier than the moment after those bandits attacked the Lorca, and I lost my tribe, my father, and my mother. But then, to find my grandfather, just to lose him again so quickly..." She was silent a moment, threading and rethreading her fingers between Hector's. "When I lost my mother and father, I had nothing but myself. But when I lost my grandfather, he left me a whole territory to watch over...I don't know how, but somehow that made it worse. It was like...like he'd left me tied to this thing, to master alone."

The truth in her words beat painfully against Hector's heart. How well did he know the feeling Lyn struggled to describe? He had grown up in the same castle his whole life, had spent plenty of afternoons as a youth playing tag in the corridors, and was familiar with every nook, cranny and crevice. But he still remembered how it had felt to walk through the Ostian House for the first time since his brother had passed. And suddenly everything had become foreign. Somehow, moving through the cavernous halls and marble pillars, walking past the same paintings and statues that his brother had, and his father before him, had felt more like touring a mausoleum than coming home.

He knew so well what Lyn felt.

Empty castles had a way of making a person feel smaller.

"Maybe," he started to say, then stopped to take a breath. Lyn had noticed the hitch in his voice, had pulled away a little to look up at him. Gazing back into her blue-gray eyes, and knowing he wanted to look into those blue-gray eyes for the rest of his life, was more calming than any breath could have been. "Maybe it would...be easier if you weren't alone."

When she kissed him, pulling him towards her, it was like seeing the sun for the first time in weeks. She answered him with her fingers, her hips, with her nose brushing just against his. Without words, away from the ballroom dancing and pleasant conversation, just them on the balcony, they forgot their loneliness and slipped into something else entirely.

And for the first time in months, Hector thought about making the return journey home.


End file.
